


Tickle Fights, Not War

by nhasablog



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Descriptions of war, M/M, Tickling, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5292242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhasablog/pseuds/nhasablog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Will you stay with me?”</p>
<p>Bucky blinked, turning back to look at Steve who was standing next to his bed, almost awkwardly. He looked so much like he did before Bucky left for the war.</p>
<p>“Do you want me to?”</p>
<p>(Or, Bucky knows what war is like. Steve doesn’t, so Bucky needs to watch out for him. Things don’t really go as planned.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tickle Fights, Not War

**Author's Note:**

> The first few paragraphs talk about war and describe them in a not overly detailed way, but if that triggers you then I suggest you don’t read this fic. Or at least not the first three paragraphs. A few more mentions of war appear throughout the fic. Better be safe than sorry.
> 
> Also posted on my tumblr nhasablog.tumblr.com

Bucky would never get over how noisy war was. How messy. It was a lot more than just rushing into battle. That part alone was gory enough, but everything behind it was almost worse. In battle you only cared about slaughtering as many enemies as possible and coming out of it alive yourself. But war wasn’t just battles, as much as Bucky sometimes felt like it, when he was sore and exhausted after having kicked some Nazi asses.

War was missing home, comfort, the people you loved. Missing your routines, the familiar faces, even your daily annoyances. War was an uncertainty. Not knowing if you’d get back to the camp at the end of the day for one reason or another. Not knowing if you’d be forced to witness the men you’d grown close to die that day.

War was loud and bloody and exhausting. The long days, the neverending nights. The sweat and tears and screams of agony. The anxiety that never seemed to leave your body. The crippling fear. Never getting one full night of proper sleep. The gunshots and cannons and roars. The feeling in the pit of your stomach when you escaped death by a millisecond. War was a mess, but Bucky knew what he was getting into when he signed up, and he would never regret it, even if it cost him a limb. Knowing that he was helping his country in their attempt to restore peace to the world was enough for him. Knowing that he was somehow protecting Steve was enough.

But then that bastard appeared out of nowhere, twice as big and wearing a uniform, and Bucky had wanted to scream. War was not a place for Steve, despite how brave the kid was.

Whatever Bucky had gone through - which was a lot - he made it his mission to watch out for Steve whether the punk wanted him to or not. He was a Captain now - Bucky was still torn between crying, laughing, and being incredibly proud - and he needed to uphold a certain image for his men, but Bucky knew that some days he’d rather curl up in bed and never get up again. So Bucky did everything he could to help him go through the days, and he always made sure Steve had most of his nights to himself. He knew he needed it.

“Will you stay with me?”

Bucky blinked, turning back to look at Steve who was standing next to his bed, almost awkwardly. He looked so much like he did before Bucky left for the war.

“Do you want me to?”

Steve nodded, visibly biting the inside of his cheek. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you. I mean, I see you everyday but…”

Bucky gave him a lopsided smile. “It’s not the same as before.”

“Exactly.”

Bucky shifted. “Well, I don’t have anywhere specific to be tonight anyway.” He took a few steps closer to his friend. “So why not?”

Steve broke into a huge smile the made every ounce of awkwardness evaporate from the room. “Great!”

So they ended up sitting on Steve’s bed and just talking and laughing and talking and laughing. Bucky had to admit that he had missed this. He’d missed this a lot.

“Wait, wait, wait, you had to punch Hitler?”

Steve nodded. “Every damn day.”

Bucky burst into laughter. “Oh, what I would give to have seen that.” He leaned over to give Steve’s ribs a poke. “Tough ol’ Captain America.”

Steve slapped his hand away with a laugh. “Cut it out, you jerk.”

Mischief found Bucky’s eyes. “Tough ol’ ticklish Captain America.”

Steve pointed a finger at him. “You have no room to talk, you know.”

Bucky decided to not give in to the sudden blush that heated up his face. “I’ve always wondered if that serum made you more ticklish.”

“I’m stronger than you now,” Steve warned. “I can get you back. We both know you love it.”

“As if you don’t.”

“I didn’t say that.” Steve smirked at him. “But I’ve never gotten the chance to properly pin you down before.”

And thus a game of cat and mouse broke out, where both of them tried to get the other while simultaneously trying to keep themselves from getting caught. It was a complicated game, and would probably tire anyone out. But Steve and Bucky were a stubborn pair, and they did love a good tickle fight, so neither one was surprised when they were both slightly breathless from the chase without having so much as wiggled a finger yet.

Bucky ended up getting caught, because Steve was a lot stronger now, and the thought of how helpless he would be made Bucky nervous, but the excitement of it all ruled out every other emotion. It had been way too long since they’d done this.

War was messy and noisy, but it did bring you close to the people around you. All those experiences made you seek out others who shared them, and adding in the fact that they all lived pretty much piled onto each other, it was hard not to become close. Bucky had found a few guys that he liked quite a lot, but neither of them could ever compare to Steve. They couldn’t just look at each other and know exactly what the other was thinking. They couldn’t give the same response or advice as a best friend would. They couldn’t have hour-long tickle fights the same way that Bucky and Steve could. Bucky couldn’t admit his liking for tickling to them. It just wasn’t the same.

So with Steve here, straddling his hips and pinning his hands under his knees with ease, Bucky felt whole for the first time in months. For the first time since then. He was smiling and knew that he wasn’t lying to himself this time.

“Okay, you’ve made your point. You’re stronger than me now,” Bucky said with a slight roll of his eyes, because while Steve knew about how much he loved this he still had to keep up appearances.

Steve tiled his head at him. “I’ve always wondered how loudly you can actually squeal, Buck.”

And without further ado Steve’s fingers were on Bucky’s sides, and Bucky was thrown into the familiar pattern of hysterical laughter, only it proved to be so much more effective since he was unable to get away this time.

“Shihihihit!” he cried, throwing his head back as his smile almost split his face in half. “Steheheve!”

He could just picture Steve smirking; so unlike the persona he’d had to uphold lately. “What’s wrong, Buck?”

Bucky pulled at his trapped arms without much success. “Gahaha dohohon’t!”

“Does it tickle?”

“Yehehehes!”

“Good.”

If Bucky thought he was laughing hard when Steve was tickling his sides, it was nothing compared to his response when Steve moved toward his stomach. Being his weakest spot, it tended to be the cause of some pretty hilarious and sometimes embarrassing reactions, but the way Bucky was screaming now was almost ridiculous. He vaguely worried that someone would hear him and get concerned and rush to his air just to be met with this sight. He would never hear the end of it.

“Fuhuhuck!” he somehow managed to choke out, his heels digging into the mattress as he bucked his hips, but it was pretty hard to dislodge a super soldier.

“You doing okay there?” Steve asked, teasing him. “I could’ve sworn you’re trying to get away from me.”

“Oh, you dohoho?” Bucky replied, knowing that he didn’t quite nail the sarcastic tone he’d been aiming for.

“Uh huh. You keep squirming. Are you not enjoying this?”

“Shuhuhut uhuhup.”

Steve hummed. “I like being stronger than you. It’s nice.” He moved his hands upwards, letting his fingers flutter over Bucky’s ribs in an unbearably light way. “You’re even more ticklish than I thought, now that I can get you for more than five minutes.”

“You suhuhuck.”

“Aw, I know you don’t mean that.” Steve leaned forward to press their foreheads together, his hands still working on reducing his best friend to an incoherent mess. “I know you love me, and I know you love this.”

Bucky’s laughter rose in pitch when Steve suddenly blew a raspberry on his neck. “Dohohon’t!”

“But it’s fuuuun,” Steve sang against his skin, blowing some more before straightening up, stilling his fingers momentarily to give Bucky a breather. “You know what spot I should try next?”

Bucky was too busy gasping for air to reply.

Steve huffed impatiently and gave his tummy a couple of pokes. “I said, you know what spot I should try next?”

Bucky jumped, giggled, and shook his head.

“Your thighs.”

He only had time to yell, “No!” before he was hit by a fresh wave of laughter. His thighs weren’t as sensitive as his belly or neck, but they were close enough. Steve used to always squeeze them whenever they were sitting next to each other at a table, no matter where they actually were.

Steve was a skilled tickler, he must admit. He knew just how to squeeze; just the right way to scratch. Bucky didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse right now.

Fortunately Steve had memorized the signs that meant that Bucky had had enough, so he backed off just as Bucky was about to go insane. He rolled off of him while Bucky lay there panting; feeling exhausted and happier than he had in a long time.

“You okay?” Steve asked him, sitting down next to him and reaching out to push his hair off of his forehead.

Bucky nodded. “I’m great,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Steve smiled. “Good. I do confess I liked having the upper hand.”

“You’ve had the upper hand before,” Bucky reminded him.

“True. But this time you couldn’t reverse the roles without my consent.”

Bucky snorted, turning to his side. “I should’ve been the one to cheer you up tonight.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You’re under so much stress. You deserve to laugh.”

“I laughed plenty,” Steve assured him. “I feel great, Buck. For once, let me be the one to take care of you.”

Bucky curled up a little. “You don’t need to take care of me.”

“I know you’ve been through some things since the day we parted,” Steve said quietly, sliding down a little so that they were closer in level. “I just want you to know that you don’t always have to be the one in charge.”

“Well, neither do you. Not when you have the responsibilities that being Captain America brings.”

Steve bit his lower lip, not saying anything for a few seconds. “Maybe we should learn to both take care of each other.”

Bucky hummed. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

Silence filled the room then as the darkness outside fell, casting eerie shadows over them. Steve slid down completely until he was laying next to Bucky; their legs tangling together in the way they always did when they shared a bed. Bucky pressed his forehead against Steve’s arm, inhaling his scent, listening to the way he breathed.

“Hey, Steve,” he mumbled after a while, his voice oddly loud in the silence.

“Hm?”

“If we’re both gonna take care of each other, that means I should get revenge right now.”

“No, come on, I’m tired-no!”

War was noisy, but that was fine as long as Steve’s laughter overpowered everything else.


End file.
